Love is Weakness
by GypsyScribbler
Summary: This is a one-shot explaining the scene where Cora goes to Mr. Gold's shop in episode 2x12, and they see each other for the first time after many years. It is written from Cora's point of view, and it details her thoughts/actions before and after the scene takes place. Fantasy/Romance/Angst set in Storybrooke. Disclaimer: I own nothing, the characters belong to ABC. Pls REVIEW!


Love is Weakness

_And so he is in there_, Cora thought, as she stood outside of Mr. Gold's shop, in the town called Storybrooke. She wondered how it would feel to look into his eyes again after so many years. She then immediately berated herself and chuckled softly at having imagined how anything would feel. She hadn't felt anything in what seemed like thousands of years. She could think, wonder, recall, recollect, reminisce and the like, but this was all done in a rather detached manner, as if she were having an out of body experience. Cora had grown very comfortable with not having feelings. It was true, when she thought of it, that those first months were rather disturbing. She'd wake up gasping for air in the middle of the night, her arms extending out into the empty darkness, clutching at something that was ever elusive, wishing for something that always stayed just out of reach. But time did wonders to dull those cumbersome episodes; it was rather like waking up after having had a dream and then having it slip away in a swirl of haziness as you were trying to recollect it. After a while, she supposed, her entire being grew accustomed to the emptiness inside her chest. That was how she remembered becoming truly numb.

It had all happened so very fast, and she now sobered at the memory. Ripping her heart out had been something she approached methodically, as she did everything else. The pain had been unbearable, but she had stayed her course. She knew everything was at stake, and she wasn't anything if not determined. For years, after she had performed the necessary task, she seemed to be consumed by the thought of that fateful evening. She attributed her obsession to the fact that it had been the last time she had truly ever felt anything. The memories of it haunted her forevermore.

In hindsight, she now thought as she mentally prepared herself to see him once again, making the decision to live without a heart had been a very intelligent one. Oh, she had thought of sparing herself the pain, of just putting her feelings aside and confronting him that night in that forest near the castle, of lying to him and telling him she never truly loved him, that she'd been using him all along and that now he'd finally outlived his usefulness. But whenever she thought of doing that, of seeing his sparkling eyes trained upon her as she spun her web of lies, she stopped short because a sharp pain in the middle of her chest seized her and did not allow her to breathe. She had loved him madly and intensely. The feeling had nearly obliterated everything else. She had had an almost fervent desire to leave everything behind, her goals, her ambitions, her hatred. And that was what had ultimately snapped her out of it. If her ability to make magic was rooted in her deep hatred, then surely giving it all up and abandoning herself to passion would come at the price of her attaining more power. That simply would not do. Oh yes, she had loved him desperately. She had allowed herself to be almost irreparably captivated by carnal desire, but in the end the thought of making the whole kingdom kneel at her feet had been more seductive than his whispered words and his forbidden caresses.

As she approached the little shop, late at night, she wondered idly again what it would feel like to be standing in his overpowering presence once again. But certainly, after all this time, she wouldn't be in awe of his tremendous power. She was now as powerful as he was, after all, if not even more so. She reminded herself sternly that her plan must take precedence above all else. Rumplestiltskin was part of her past. He had power over her no longer. He was nothing.

It was with these thoughts that Cora first lingered unseen inside his shop as he made his way to the front door and peered outside, as if feeling her presence. She placed the box on top of the counter silently and swirled out of sight just as he turned back around. He was perplexed, no doubt, as he eyed the box in puzzlement. She had materialized behind him once again, and wondered for a second if he had any idea she was here. She took in his stance, his hair, his attire and how it fit to his body, and thought curiously of how it would actually **feel** to have her heart beating inside of her chest right now. Certainly, she decided, it would be beating erratically fast, as it had only done whenever he was near her.

She spoke in a low, controlled voice behind him. "Hello Rumple." He gasped and swirled around, startled, to face her. _Ah_, she thought, _he has not changed all that much_. In the second before he spoke, she looked him over quickly and then steadily into his eyes. This was freeing, in a sense liberating. She was almost glad that the illusion of his face, which she had carried in her mind for so many years, was finally being shattered. Here she was, standing before her master, her great love, the man she had almost forsaken herself for, and she felt nothing. It had all been worth it.

"Well, I expected this was just a matter of time," he said as he looked at her, his voice fraught with irony and dripping with sarcasm, "I had hoped you were dead, but hey… disappointment is a part of life, I'm sure we can agree on that." She was sporting a half-smile, listening to his quasi-hurtful words, directed at her. So that is what her betrayal and deception had come down to in his mind? Disappointment? Well, now, men could be so terribly childish.

"Aww," she drawled, "The crocodile snaps at the little bird… and after I brought you a gift," she pointed subtly at the box in the room, which was sitting within his reach.

He did not take his eyes off her as he countered, "Yeah, did you bring the antidote too?" _Really, now_, she thought, _how very foolish of him. _Her smile deepened and she chuckled softly before replying, her voice full of mockery "Aww Rumple… it's a peace offering." _Yes_, she thought as she continued to look at him, _the years have been kind to him_. Being in this world suited him. His face was full of life, his handsome features somehow more pronounced since his skin was lacking its usual sparkle. He didn't look like the man she had loved, if he could have been called a man back then, but at the same time he did. It was still he. She wondered indifferently what they would be saying to each other now if they could speak without restrains… but what a senseless thought! Wasn't that the whole point of her actions from so long ago? She had effectively eradicated her emotions. How very marvelous!

"And what do you want?" He asked, his whole body exuding disdain, "For this…err… peace offering?" He looked briefly over at where the box stood, then back at her steadily, waiting.

"My daughter," she said, and watched as his features became hardened and expressed the mildest of surprises. She spoke again, softly, deliberately, her eyes trained on his calmly, "You were so clever to get her to lay the curse so you could come here," she said. "You don't need her anymore. Let me try to get her back, and let us live." She finished voicing her request, wondering how long it would take him to raise a protest, to call her out on this ridiculous farce. Ah, not long apparently, for even as she was thinking this he broke into a disbelieving, sarcastic smile.

"And what do I get for my troubles?" He asked her. Of course, always bargaining. Now, this was something she was prepared for. Anything else, perhaps not, but this? She knew how to negotiate well with him.

"Your son," She said, as his features blanched and became serious all at once. He eyed her suspiciously as she looked pointedly at the box sitting next to him. He followed her gaze and curiously inched over to the box, opening it and revealing its contents. She knew him well, and even though his back was turned to her she imagined the surprise and wonder etched on his face as he registered what he was seeing. The globe.

She was satisfied, and spoke once again, "You know what that is, of course." She observed him carefully as he placed his right hand almost admiringly on top of the white globe. Cora's stance shifted imperceptibly, as she became even more triumphant and proud of her accomplishments. She thought vaguely of her intelligence, her astuteness.

"It will find him…" he whispered almost to himself, and then he seemed to come to a realization, and snapped out of a reverie as he lowered his hand and turned around to face her once more. "If this one truly is **it**," he said, emphasizing the last word, and he looked at her in such a guarded way that it made her wonder if he was about to take flight. Well, she thought, she could not blame him for not trusting her.

She laughed softly and took a step closer to him and said, "Oh darling, I have no reason to cheat you." She noticed how, as she took steps toward him, he inched back as if afraid of her approach. Were she to have a heart, ought she to be feeling hurt at his reluctance to have her come near him? Strange, isn't it, what wayward thoughts will slide into one's mind at times.

"Anymore," he said, bitingly. Well, touché, Rumplestiltskin. So he remembered her betrayal well, and apparently it still stung. Or did it? Perhaps it was just wishful thinking on her part, but that was neither here nor there.

She looked at him and almost pitied him, "I want you…" she sighed and then continued "to find the one person in this universe who might still love you." Was that true? She had said it convincingly enough, but she could not help but wonder whether reuniting him with his long lost son had any bearing in her actions at all. She did not wish him ill will, it was true, but this entire situation was just a means to an end. She might just as easily crush him, should the need ever arise to do so, she thought maliciously. Yes, the poor miller's daughter had come a long way indeed. How very delicious. As she pondered this, he looked this way and that, as if weighing her words carefully. She knew she was close to getting him to acquiesce to her request and pressed further, "After all… I'm doing the same thing."

"Do you have any spells to return memories?" He asked the question in a cool, careless manner, looking anywhere but directly at her. Then, as he seemed to collect himself once again, he fixed his eyes on hers. _Oh my darling Rumple_, she thought, _enthralled by love once again._ She had heard of his infatuation with some silly girl. Would he never learn? **Love is weakness**. For a second, she was seized by an almost vulgar need to shake him to his core and explain to him that love was for fools, that he would only end up getting hurt, again. What was this, his third attempt already? Foolish, preposterous creature. She could almost feel pity for him, almost.

As it were, and for the time being, she plastered on her best look of regret as she spoke next, "I only know what you taught me…" she smiled humbly, "Master." As she said this, his whole countenance shifted once more and she could sense, rather than see, his eyes recoiling in disgust and, perhaps, even melancholy. She stepped even closer, "So will you accept my offer of a truce?" she asked. He seemed to consider her for a while. He looked torn as he extended a hesitant hand to her, "Truce," he said.

How very pleasing, she thought. All was going according to plan, and now she expertly moved one more piece in her favor in this game of chess. She admired her cleverness as she placed her hand in his outstretched one. She smiled tenderly and caressed his hand with her thumb. All of a sudden, memories from another life threatened to spill over her mind and engulf her completely, as they stood there and looked at each other intensely, their hands still clasped together. What was happening to her? Surely, this was a matter to carefully consider at a later time.

By a force evidently stronger than her own carefully crafted self-control, she held on to his hand tighter, "Let's seal it like we used to," she whispered and purposefully disregarded the sardonic look that stole over his features. She approached him slowly and closing her eyes kissed him fully, softly, on the lips. She ended the soft kiss after a moment and breathed in, as she gazed fully into his eyes. She was overcome by memories, once again. He looked at her in unconcealed surprise, but she dared not ponder what other thoughts or emotions might be flailing inside him. She could not stay here a second longer, she needed to leave quickly. She shook herself out of the trance they were in and reluctantly disentangled her hand from his, apparently as well as her very soul. She turned around and walked slowly but steadily to the door of the shop, willing herself to get out of there. She could hear his somewhat shallow breathing, and forced herself to place her right hand on the doorknob. She took in a steadying breath and turned her body halfway to steal one more glance of him. He was rooted to the spot, still looking at her, mock disdain evident in his very stance. She hardened her resolve, lifted her chin up as she had done since she was a little girl, and swept away from the horrid little shop, in a dignified manner, leaving a cloud of purple smoke in her wake.

She materialized near the harbor and began walking shakily. During her marriage to Henry, she had become accustomed to taking long walks by the water, because she found it soothing. She gazed up at the dark sky, and breathed in slowly as she took in the velvety night all around her. She remembered stealing away from her home when she was younger, because it was better to be alone. Out there in the darkness and near the water, there were no smiles to feign for the husband she did not care for, and there were no loving caresses to bestow on the daughter she could not love. As she gazed out at the murky waters now, she allowed herself to examine the incredible scene that had just transpired between her and Rumplestiltskin, or Mr. Gold, as he was known here. How ironic… his idea, no doubt. He'd always had the most devious sense of humor.

What had just occurred? Surely, there was an explanation. Had she felt something? No, that was quite impossible. If she was being honest with herself, however, she must admit that she had desperately wanted to feel something, to care. But why? Not even watching Regina grow up had given her such an arresting yearning. She had no heart, but the mind remembered. The brain was powerful. An old wizard, whom she confided in long ago, had told her she needed to cast a spell to banish her memories; he had spoken endlessly about chemicals and other nonsensical drivel. At the time, she shrugged him off laughing and waved him away. Perhaps old Merlin had been right. Perhaps her mind was playing nasty tricks on her, but she was powerful, and she would not allow her absurdly idealized memories of Rumplestiltskin to hinder her in any fashion.

The miller's daughter was dead, wasn't she? She thought she had made sure of it the night she ripped out her own heart, breaking his in the process. _No more of this_, she said to herself as she closed her eyes and breathed in again. Cora resolved to focus on her plan, and she vowed to destroy anyone who got in her way, even if that meant she had to look into the face of the only man she had ever loved, plunge her hand into his chest, and crush his heart with her very fingers, until he was no more. _Yes, _thought the miller's daughter, _I have come a long way indeed. _


End file.
